


Realization

by ValmureEld (InkSiren)



Series: I Tried Not to Get Into the Witcher and Look Where That Got Me [39]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heartbeats, It's time for midnight angst you know the drill, Kissing, Light Angst, Protective Yennefer, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21613531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSiren/pseuds/ValmureEld
Summary: A quiet night in for Geralt and Yennefer gets interrupted by a sudden realization.Or,The Witchers in Geralt's past who thought it was a good idea to put him through two rounds of trials also tried to euthanize him and Yennefer is not over it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: I Tried Not to Get Into the Witcher and Look Where That Got Me [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/924813
Comments: 18
Kudos: 286





	Realization

**Author's Note:**

> You ever have something just suddenly click out of nowhere that your brain was apparently working on in the background for cosmos knows how long? 
> 
> Yeah. That. 
> 
> I was browsing my own old stories for this fandom and had this idea just smack me in the face. The euthanization thing is entirely my headcannon, and talked about in "Father of the Wolf"

It was nearing midnight and completely silent inside of Corvo Bianco when Yennefer closed her book so suddenly it made Geralt jump.

“Yen--”

“Those _idiots_ ,” she seethed, her eyes bright with violet fury directed at the wall for a beat before she turned her head to look at him. Even then, he wasn’t sure she was actually looking at _him_ , but rather still at the people in her head she’d suddenly had some kind of revelation about.

He was mystified, his own book resting in his lap. “Yeah I hate when trashy romance characters do stupid things.”

“Not the book,” Yennefer said, waving a hand and setting it aside a little too harshly. “I haven’t registered what I’ve read for the last four pages it’s lost me entirely.” She got up, going to the cabinet in their sitting room where they kept her favorite wine. She uncorked it and took an undignified draw right from the bottle.

Geralt slowly closed his book, watching her with a furrowed brow.

“Yen,” he tried, “What is going on?”

She wiped the wine away from her bottom lip with a thumb and then shot it a nasty glare like it had failed her before moving to the other side of the cabinet where he kept his vodka. Both of his eyebrows went up as she took a drink from that next.

“Oookay,” he said, getting up and going over to her, taking the vodka from her hand as she went to set it down. He met her eyes for a moment as she glanced at him, but she quickly turned away, leaving him to take a shot from the bottle himself. He gave her a minute, watching as she paced around and crossed her arms, sensing that she was going to explain--or rather explode any moment.

“What they did was barbaric in the first place, but everything had to be _studied_ and _perfected_ and _timed_ \--and not a _single person_ thought--”

She cradled her head between her hands and blew out a long breath, her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she ran her fingers back through it. The vodka sloshed a little as Geralt slowly capped it, setting it to the side.

“Yen….who are you talking about?” he asked slowly, disliking the situation more the longer she avoided looking at him.

“Witchers,” she spat, and he flinched a little at her tone, frowning even more as she finally turned to look him in the eye. He hadn’t seen her that angry in….well not since Ciri had been threatened.

“Witchers…” he said slowly, putting a hesitant hand on his own chest in question.

“Or rather, monsters. The monsters who saw fit to experiment twice on a child,” she gestured at him and a sort of click in his brain gave way to a sudden flood of understanding.

“Yennefer, are you thinking about the lab again?”

She pressed her lips together until the blood left them, and even though there was a warning in her glance, he knew she wasn’t truly angry with him. She was angry because only a few days prior she’d found out, mostly by mistake, that not only had he been subjected to two rounds of trials but he’d nearly been euthanized after the second because he’d taken too long to wake up.

Even though she’d been with him safely for years and it had been a solid century since that needle had threatened him, she’d still reacted ...badly to learning about his history.

“I thought we were just...having a quiet reading night what triggered this?” he asked, gesturing at their sitting room. His favorite chair in one corner, hers nearby. It was painfully domestic with their bookshelves and liquor cabinets. Candlelight and her magic illuminated the space in such a picturesque manner it was difficult to imagine many of the horrible things in his past and he rathered it stayed that way.

Yennefer rubbed at her forehead, shoulders tense as he slowly approached her and settled his hands on her arms. Her expression was troubled and her gaze cast towards his chest, a soft sigh leaving her as she placed a gentle hand against his sternum.

“You did,” she said at last, looking up at him without moving her hand. Again, she studied his face, as if realizing deeply that he never should have lived long enough to reach adulthood. He cupped her cheek, his own expression troubled.

“I did?”

She reached up with her free hand and stroked her thumb along his eye, then down to his cheek and jaw. Her touch was cool and soft.

“I haven’t stopped thinking of it completely since I found out,” she admitted sadly, brow furrowed. “But it was only now, when I stopped reading and began listening to you instead that I realized--”

He shook his head once, his gold eyes catching the firelight. “Realized what, Yennefer?” he asked, reaching up his other hand to frame her face. “I don’t want this to bother you anymore. I hate that it does. They didn’t kill me. Not even close, and Vesimir would have torn Jadrick's head off to defend me. I’m still here, and we’re together. That’s what matters now.”

She sighed, nodding once and casting her eyes down, dropping both hands then to rest on his breast. Slowly, she leaned into him and he slipped his arms around her shoulders, holding her close.

“I realized,” she murmured after a few silent moments, “That you didn’t wake not because you were fragile and trapped in a coma...but because you were pouring everything you had into healing. Witchers...of all people...should be able to recognize that.”

He hummed, tilting his head and stroking his thumb across her back in a gentle caress. “What drew you to that conclusion?”

“Something Eskel told me, a long time ago.”

“Oh?”

Her hand pressed into his chest a little harder and he felt her trace the rib bisecting his heart. A shiver broke out across his chest and his heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t move.

“He told me you had a weak heart as a child...but as you endured the trials it did nothing but improve.”

He nodded. “Vesimir told me the same. I do remember how different it felt when I woke up again.”

“It was only tonight, while I listened to your breathing, to your heart beating next to me that I realized ...your heart would not have healed while you were unconscious if you were unconscious because you were dying. If you’d been dying, if your body had been failing and anywhere near needing euthanization...your heart would have reflected that.”

“So why do you think I was out for so long?” he asked, pulling away just enough to look at her eyes.

“Because your heart was getting stronger,” she answered softly. “Because...all of that damage you were born with was being healed, and such a miracle took more energy than your body could spare. You were asleep because you needed everything you had to create the strength that has carried you a century hence.”

That anger ghosted back across her features and she raised her hand once more, delicately settling it on his cheek. “And they almost killed you for it.”

“Yennefer,” he murmured, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “They didn’t know any better. Maybe they should have ...but they didn’t. And,” he added, covering her hand on his chest with his own “they didn’t succeed. I’m alive and I’m staying that way for another century at least.”

She ran her hand up into his hair and tightened her fingers into it, pulling him down for a more demanding kiss on the lips. “Four,” she said firmly when they broke, and he could feel her smile as his heart picked up its pace beneath her palm. “I expect at least another four centuries from you, Witcher.”

“Your wish,” he began, but she didn’t let him finish.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep good to know I'm still trash for hearts and this ship I'll see myself out.


End file.
